When Enjolras is Away, the Mice will Play
by Vernacular Jargon
Summary: Modern AU. Finals week at university is brutal, so the boys decide to let loose while Enjolras is at a rally. A good Nerf gun battle makes a great study break.


**Disclaimer: **I do not own any rights to _Les Misérables _or anything affiliated with it.

A foreign atmosphere cloaked the entirety of the run-down house owned by ten university men: it was silent. The silence was a result of nearly a week of planning- unknown to Enjolras- and was serving its purpose splendidly. Courfeyrac slowly lowered his law textbook in an attempt to sneakily spy on Enjolras studying the same book on the couch. He was pleased to note that Enjolras looked almost peaceful: his brows weren't furrowed, his lips weren't pressed in a thin line, and for once the throbbing vein in his temple was nowhere to be found. Courfeyrac shifted his gaze to Combeferre, who also sat on the couch. He was studying his notes from his German philosophy lecture but looked up once he felt the odd sensation that someone was watching him. He made eye contact with Courfeyrac, whose eyes lit up with that signature glint of mischief as he wriggled his eyebrows. Combeferre rolled his own eyes but nevertheless the corners of his mouth formed into a small smile.

Enjolras shut his textbook (Courfeyrac and Combeferre quickly went back to studying) and checked the watch on his wrist. "I better leave for the rally soon. Though it's actually quiet in here for once," he looked around the living room and Courfeyrac sunk into the pages of his law book so as to hide his fearful expression. Was that wistfulness he heard in Enjolras' voice? He held his breath and waited for the ax to fall. "Maybe I should take advantage of it and stay here."

The ax had fallen. It was up to Courfeyrac and Combeferre to clean up the mess.

"No!" Combeferre exclaimed, a little too rushed for his liking. Enjolras whipped his curly blond head in Combeferre's direction and he knew Enjolras heard it too. "I mean," he set down his notes in his lap, "you've been planning to go to this rally for _weeks_! It's the perfect study break for you. You've been studying for finals non-stop and if you just bail out on this you'll only stress yourself out."

"'Ferre's right," Courfeyrac added, once his heart slowed back to its normal rate, "and no one likes a Stressed Enjolras, least of all your roommates."

Enjolras unconsciously gave a little pout when he weighed his options, surveying the room once more. The TV in the corner was off- come to think of it he couldn't hear _any_ TVs blaring on this floor or the floor above, no one was banging around in the separate kitchen a few feet ahead, and everyone besides the three of them in the living room were tucked away in their bedrooms. Grantaire wasn't drunkenly belting a mindless song from the radio, Joly wasn't obsessively bleaching every surface, Marius wasn't on a monologue about his girlfriend, Bossuet wasn't accidentally breaking anything, Jehan wasn't blaring _Days of our Lives_, Bahorel didn't have a protesting Feuilly in a headlock, Courfeyrac wasn't attached face-to-face with yet another woman, and Combeferre didn't have to remind everyone to be polite and to please, _please_ just everyone get along. As far as Enjolras was concerned, he could have had the wrong address. "I don't know. I mean, how many times will this house be this quiet ever again?"

Courfeyrac started to panic. Their plan, once perfect, was starting to backfire. He could literally feel his deodorant starting to fail under this surmounting pressure. "When was the last time you ever did anything for yourself?" He tossed his textbook aside and jumped up to his feet. "Come on, live a little! Get fired up! Shake some of society's boundaries! Tell me: when was the last time we had to bail you out of jail because you got too rowdy at a demonstration?"

"About two months ago."

"_See?_" Courfeyrac's voice cracked and Combeferre shot him a warning look. _Stay calm_, it said. _Don't blow our cover_. "This rally's all about rising tuition rates; the cops practically have a cell _waiting_ for you!"

"I don't really know if that's good incentive to go," Enjolras raised an eyebrow in Courfeyrac's direction.

Things were getting desperate, Combeferre could tell. Nonchalantly, he dove into his pocket for his phone.

**Combeferre: **_Quick, start singing._

**Grantaire: **_Why?_

**Combeferre: **_Enjolras is having second thoughts._

To Courfeyrac, it was as if an angel sent from God was bellowing a drunken rendition of Queen's "Bohemian Rhapsody" above their heads.

"_I see a little silhouetto of a man!_"

From elsewhere upstairs, six more angels replied in equally brazen voices: "_Scaramouch, scaramouch will you do the fandango?_"

"_Thunderbolt and lightning- very very frightening me!_"

"_Galileo!_"

_ "Galileo!"_

Enjolras sighed in defeat. "I guess the moment's gone, anyway."

A few minutes later, Courfeyrac and Combeferre were seeing Enjolras out the door. "Are you sure you guys don't want to come?" He asked the two.

Combeferre shook his head, "I still have to review all my Nietzsche notes for tomorrow."

"I wish I could go," Courfeyrac shrugged his shoulders and dejectedly looked down at his feet, "but I still haven't finished that Law History paper." He let out a wistful sigh and it took everything within Combeferre to keep his eyes from rolling around in their sockets.

"Well," Enjolras said, nonplussed, "better get working on that." To Combeferre, he added "I should be back later."

"I'll be sure to keep my phone by my side so I don't miss your one phone call," Combeferre smiled.

The two stood unmoving and silent a few minutes after Enjolras shut the door, just for precaution's sake. It was Courfeyrac who first deemed it safe, letting out the breath he was holding. "That was close."

"No thanks to your theatrics," Combeferre released the tension in his shoulders.

"_Is the coast clear?_" One of the angels yelled from above.

"Coast is clear, gentlemen!" Courfeyrac yelled back. He quickly ran to the couch and dove behind it, retrieving two Nerf guns. He threw one to Combeferre and kept one for himself. A black t-shirt was also found behind the couch and he quickly changed out of his plaid button-down. "'Ferre, are you setting up the strobe?"

"Yeah," Combeferre replied as he rummaged around in his backpack he left in the foyer. "Though I don't know why you keep insisting on it. Joly is going to have a fit."

"Just because he's pre-med doesn't mean he knows what's good for him," answered Courfeyrac. A bandolier full of extra ammunition was wrapped around a box of crayon face paint and he eagerly put both on.

A herd of animals stampeded down the stairs to meet the two. Leading the way was Bahorel. He was a big brute of a man taking his sweet time with his law degree and was currently dressed all in black. Bandoliers were strung taught across his broad chest and the twenty-automatic Nerf gun he held looked small in his large hands. "I thought he'd never leave," he grumbled.

"If I had to, I would've pelted him with these foam bullets until he surrendered," said Bossuet after him. He tripped on the last step and would have fallen flat on his face if Feuilly wasn't anticipating it and reached for his collar just in time.

"I think you'd be the first to surrender," Feuilly told him happily, patting him on the back. "But that doesn't mean you couldn't try anyway."

Joly followed Feuilly and when Combeferre came into view and he saw the strobe light, he paled underneath his war paint. "'Ferre? Are we going to turn that on?"

Combeferre looked up and gave Courfeyrac a pointed look before answering, "There were a few who suggested it, yes."

"Strobes induce seizures!" Joly cried, "We'll be risking our health!"

Grantaire sighed and rolled his eyes. They were bright circles of green that stuck out from his face; he ha d colored all of his face black in an attempt to keep himself quiet for the few hours in an effort to boost Enjolras' mood, just in case something went awry in their planning. "None of us are prone to seizures, Joly. If we were we would know."

"If you're that worried you can just keep your eyes closed," suggested Jehan. His face was painted like a church's stained glass window. Marius snorted at his suggestion.

"Then I'd be an easy target!"

Bahorel was looking at his gun to make sure it was fully loaded. "Sounds like you've got quite the dilemma," he said with disinterest. "Now are we going to start this Nerf battle or what?"

Combeferre finally figured out how to work the blasted strobe light and stood up satisfied. "We have to lay ground rules first." He looked at each of his black-clad, painted roommates in turn. "Ground floor only, no going upstairs, and no going outside. The bathroom is a safe zone but don't exploit it-"

"We won't take that kinda shit!" Courfeyrac couldn't contain himself when presented with the opportunity.

"-Don't aim for the eyes and absolutely _no_ crotch shots-"

"Amen," nodded Marius.

"-Use the furniture at your leisure, but don't bust anything." Here, everyone pointedly looked at Bossuet. ("I won't! I promise!" Bossuet exclaimed, crossing his heart and promptly shooting himself in the eye as he did so.)

"Lastly," Combeferre added, "when Enjolras gets back we aren't going to throw anyone under the bus. We're all to blame for this idea, so don't single anyone out. Agreed?"

"Agreed," all the men replied solemnly.

Combeferre nodded his approval and quickly dug a black t-shirt out from the backpack at his feet. "Once I put the strobe in place and all the lights are shut off, we'll have a ten second grace period before all hell breaks loose."

After Combeferre changed and all but the living room light was shut off, he put the strobe on the far wall of the room and plugged it in. "Everyone ready?"

"Just turn the damn light off!" Grantaire yelled. Combeferre complied.

Immediately, chaos ensued. Bahorel decided to hang the ten-second rule and started firing on Joly. Joly, still not completely taken with the strobe light, shut his eyes tight and tried to fire back at Bahorel and missed, hitting Bossuet in the eye. "Guys!" Combeferre exclaimed, already agitated, "What did I just say?"

"All's fair in love and war, 'Ferre!" Courfeyrac answered before shooting his friend in the chest.

Everyone scattered. Bahorel dove into the bathroom and shot from there as Feuilly ran to the kitchen. Joly ran to the other end of the house in an attempt to lessen the strobe's intensity, followed by Courfeyrac. Marius dashed into a nearby bedroom and Combeferre followed him- it was his bedroom after all. Jehan and Grantaire momentarily teamed together to destroy Bossuet in the living room before Grantaire went against their unspoken truce and opened fire on Jehan. Bossuet took this opportunity to crawl away.

"Grantaire! Grantaire!" Jehan exclaimed amid his bubbling laughter, "Bossuet is getting away!"

Grantaire turned and saw Bossuet scramble up on his feet and run laughing down the hallway, giving a cry of surprise when Bahorel appeared from the bathroom and opened fire. When Grantaire was looking down the hallway, Jehan took the opportunity to shoot him in the back of the head before he started to run after Bossuet.

Marius, upon entering Combeferre's bedroom, quickly spun around and shot Combeferre in the chest. Their battle soon became heated- Marius jumped up on the bed for a height advantage but Combeferre quickly emptied his laundry basket and used it as a shield. They went on like this for another minute when Combeferre was struck with an idea. He looked out the window and did a double take, "Marius, is that Cosette out on the street?"

Marius dropped his Nerf gun in a rush to reach the window. "Where is she?" He asked in rapture.

"Keep looking," Combeferre said, picking up as many foam bullets as he could, "I saw her walking on the other side of the street."

"But I don't see any-" Marius looked back and stopped speaking. Combeferre had left the room with all of the bullets, save the last two in Marius' gun.

Further down the hallway, Courfeyrac was mercilessly shooting Joly in Enjolras' room. "Joly, it's not very fun when you don't shoot back," he said exasperated.

Joly was laying on the carpet in the fetal position with his back to Courfeyrac. His gun was cradled in his lap and enveloped by his arms and legs. "My plan was to lay here until you got bored and walked away," Joly answered. "I was banking on your short attention span."

Courfeyrac stopped firing, thinking it wasn't worth it anymore. "Aren't you freaking out about lying on the carpet like that?"

"I'm trying not to think about it," Joly whispered with a shudder. "Though I trust the carpet in Enjolras' room is cleaner than yours."

Courfeyrac couldn't disagree with that. "Well, if you're just going to sit there, I guess I'll go and see where Feuilly went to. I haven't heard him since 'Ferre shut the lights off." He calmly grabbed his bullets from the floor. "Do you want me to shut the door on my way out?"

"Please. The strobe is giving me a migraine."

Courfeyrac shut the door and was immediately accosted by Bossuet. They shot a few bullets at each other before Bossuet took off and ran into Courfeyrac's room at the end of the hall. Jehan passed Courfeyrac yelling a battle cry at the top of his lungs, running full speed toward Bossuet before he could shut Courfeyrac's door.

"Jesus, I didn't think Jehan had that in him," Grantaire said, impressed. Bahorel left his hiding place and stood in the hallway just as shocked as the other two.

"That was _Jehan_?" Combeferre asked, appearing from his room with a supply of bullets cradled in his arm.

"Yeah, chasing Bossuet," Courfeyrac explained. All four men mulled this over in silence until one by one they looked at each others' guns stiffly before they opened fire.

"Where's Joly?" Bahorel asked as he shot Combeferre. Combeferre fired back, the bullet hitting Bahorel above his heart.

Courfeyrac shot Grantaire in the middle of the forehead before he responded, "Enjolras' room. He couldn't take the strobe any longer."

"It hasn't even been that long!" Grantaire exclaimed, shooting Courfeyrac's cheek.

"Yes, well," Combeferre paused, shooting Bahorel in the shoulder, "we have to respect Joly. I didn't think the strobe was a great idea but at least he lasted as long as he did."

A muffled crash was heard in Courfeyrac's room and everyone stopped what they were doing. Even Marius pulled himself away from the window to see what had broken. "_Bossuet!_" Courfeyrac yelled.

"Everything- everything's okay!" Responded Bossuet hurriedly. "I'll buy you a new lamp tomorrow, I swear!"

Courfeyrac sighed, "At least it wasn't my-"

An even larger crash was heard behind the closed door and they heard Jehan yelp in surprise. "Okay, that was _completely_ Jehan's fault!" Bossuet cried.

"Was that my _bed_?" Grantaire snickered and Courfeyrac shot him in the eye, much to Combeferre's disapproval. When no one responded, Courfeyrac's voice shot up an octave. "Jehan? Bossuet?"

There was some fumbling behind the door and a few mutterings consisting of "_Shit_" and "_Don't worry, it still might be salvageable._"

Jehan and Bossuet slowly opened the door- wide enough to snake through but narrow enough so Courfeyrac couldn't see the damage. "You're mattress is still in one piece!" Bossuet replied happily.

Jehan nodded vigorously, "We'll fix the frame after finals. Just… don't jump from your desk to your bed. Ever. Though at the moment, I don't think any more damage could be caused." He looked at Courfeyrac apprehensively. "I didn't mean to break your bed frame, honest."

Courfeyrac was silent for a moment. Jehan and Bossuet stood grim until they saw a smile spreading across Courfeyrac's face, "Don't worry about it. This just means my lady friend and I can get even freak-" he was stopped by a barrage of bullets that seemed to rain from every direction. In an attempt to stop the flow of bullets, he asked the question he had been trying to answer when he left Enjolras' room in the first place. "Hey! Where's Feuilly?"

His plan worked. Marius looked around and didn't see him anywhere. "I haven't seen him since 'Ferre turned off the lights."

"Me neither," Bahorel stated. "He hasn't been in the bathroom- I've been guarding that since we've started."

"I thought I saw him run into the kitchen right after I shut off the lights," Combeferre said. He looked down the hallway but couldn't see any movement with the flashes from the strobe.

"He's not in Enjolras' room!" Joly's muffled exclamation was heard behind the closed door.

Courfeyrac, now confident that his firing squad lost interest in their target, strode to the kitchen armed and ready to fire. He stopped in his tracks when he saw the kitchen was barred from any entry. "Feuilly, what the hell? Did you barricade yourself in the kitchen?"

The kitchen entryway was blocked by the couches and the coffee table from the living room and the chairs from the kitchen, along with a smattering of odds and ends Feuilly most likely found in the closet. Coats blocked any eye from seeing inside and shoes filled any holes left by the kitchen chairs. Courfeyrac, along with the others who joined him, were impressed.

There was a beat of silence before Feuilly gave a muffled reply. "Yeph."

The others laughed at Feuilly's work but panic struck Courfeyrac to the core. Feuilly's mouth was full of food. "What are you eating? Are you eating my food? Feuilly? _Feuilly are you eating the paczki I just bought?_" Courfeyrac started to tear off the coats and pull out the shoes.

"No!" Feuilly exclaimed, equally panicked, "Eye 'ood I do 'at?"

"Your love of Poland has driven you to eat my Polish donuts! It's time for an intervention!" Courfeyrac cried. He shot into a few holes of the barricade in desperation. When he realized it would take longer to tear down the barricade than it would take Feuilly to eat the donuts, Courfeyrac let out a whimper and whined, "at least save one for me."

Feuilly was guiltily silent.

"Please tell me that wasn't the last one."

"I'll buy you a baker's dozen."

Courfeyrac started to strip the barricade of its furniture with renewed vigor. "Not until I enact my revenge!" He cried.

"A noble cause!" Grantaire exclaimed. He set aside his Nerf gun and started to help Courfeyrac.

The two finished dismantling the barricade in a matter of minutes and revealed a frightened Feuilly, complete with a smattering of powdered sugar on the corner of his mouth. "Courf, I promise, I'll buy you some more tomorrow!" He looked around the kitchen for his gun and paled when he realized he had left his gun in the foyer when he moved the furniture.

Bahorel, always looking for a good fight, couldn't help but burst through Courfeyrac's and Grantaire's line and open fire. Feuilly dove under the kitchen table, hit one of the legs in his haste, and effectively toppled the table over as a shield. The plastic container that held the Polish donuts fell and landed on the linoleum in a small explosion of powdered sugar. Bossuet laughed and joined the fray.

Combeferre stood amused and looked over at Jehan. "Courf doesn't mind that you broke his bed but he practically destroys Feuilly when he finds he ate all his donuts."

Jehan's blush gave more color to the red paint on his face at the mention of the broken bed, "I'd like to keep it that way."

"I completely agree with Courf's thinking on this one," Marius said, entering the conversation while keeping an eye on the battle between Courfeyrac, Grantaire, Bossuet, Bahorel, and Feuilly. "Those donuts are really good. I had one this morning."

"Me too," confessed Jehan, his neck and ears turning as red as his face paint.

"I didn't think they were worthy of a beating like this," Combeferre waved his hand at the scene. Courfeyrac, Grantaire, Bossuet, and Bahorel were circled around the table and Feuilly was curled on the floor, apologizing through his laughter.

Jehan and Marius looked at Combeferre in shock. "You mean you ate one, too?" Jehan asked.

"Of course," Combeferre replied, a grin on his face. "Everyone had at least one, even Enjolras. Feuilly was just the unlucky one who got caught."

"How did Courf not notice?" Marius laughed.

Combeferre shrugged his shoulders, "Maybe he thought every woman he brought home ate one on their way out the door. I don't know. It's Courf."

Bahorel, growing bored of Feuilly's cowering, decided to fire at Grantaire instead. "Hey!" Grantaire laughed. He fired back and the two started a heated match in the kitchen, narrowly avoiding glasses that were drying on the countertop.

"What are you two doing?" Courf cried. He shot both of them in annoyance, "You were helping me destroy Feuilly!"

"Plans have changed!" Grantaire exclaimed, ducking from a bullet that sped past and stuck to the refrigerator.

"Deal with it!" Bahorel added, shooting again and hitting his target.

Feuilly, taking his chance, shoved Bossuet out of the way and knocking him to the ground. He scrambled up to his feet and sped past Combeferre, Jehan, and Marius. "Freedom!" He cried, relieved. A few bullets whizzed past his head and he bolted to the front door in an effort to escape Courfeyrac. He tore open the door- nearly tearing it off its hinges- only to be met by Enjolras, his had frozen in midair where the doorknob was only seconds ago.

"Enjolras!" Feuilly exclaimed, loud enough for everyone to hear. Everyone stopped what they were doing and walked to the foyer to see Enjolras' reaction. From the hallway, they could hear Joly blindly creep out of Enjolras' room and down the hall. "What are you doing back so early?"

Enjolras tried his best to look disapprovingly from one man to the other despite the constant attacks of bright light from the strobe. "I was informed that I'm banned from any and all public discussions and debates on campus."

"And you just gave up and walked back home?" Courfeyrac asked incredulously.

"No," Enjolras said with a scowl. "I was escorted back." He looked behind him and glared at the parked police car outside on the curb.

"That bumbling Officer Halphstead?"

"Chief Javert."

Marius winced, "Ouch."

"He'll be patrolling our yard for the rest of the night." Enjolras entered the house and slammed the door so Chief Javert could get the hint. He got a better view of the kitchen and the living room and raised an eyebrow. "I was gone for an hour and you managed to do all this?"

Grantaire smirked, "We were just getting started."

"Well," Enjolras looked back nonplussed, "consider it finished." He took his leave and stalked to his room.

"Oh, come on, Apollo!" Grantaire called from behind, "You're just sore you weren't in on the fun!"

Enjolras stopped in his tracks with his hand on his doorknob, "I am, actually," he said quietly. He looked up and saw his roommates' shocked expressions and flashed a challenging grin. "After finals, round two commences. Without that blasted strobe light. Agreed?"

All of the men shouted in excitement, Joly the loudest one of all.


End file.
